• Israel Muvindi

  Author

They found him swinging like a monkey doing acrobatics on a tree branch. The only difference
was that the monkey will be playing with and praying to its ancestors of the trees, but he was
unhappily lifelessly ‘playing’ see-saw in the wilderness of apes. Self-slaughter, individual
murder, a personal atrocity and an egoistic monstrosity perpetrated by one on oneself. He came
to this fateful hill, this pseudo-Calvary, armed against himself, ready to bombard, torpedo and
utterly fragment himself. Therefore, he was his own criminal, his own Neanderthal, his own
hooligan, his own rascal, his own microscopic terrorist. The deed had been done, and there he
was, dangling like a de-erected gargantuan elephant penis whose owner has been forcibly and
violently castrated in the very presence of a hundred cows on heat. Shame, I say, shame!
He was a whole man of GOD, an international preacher material, a potential global evangelist.
Most people who had the privilege to hear him agreed that if he was not anointed, then he was
anointing itself – personified. Even the non-believers acknowledged at least that he was gifted.
Even his most passionate enemies and his most ardent critics in the ministry observed his
peculiar gift, to the extent of labelling him a Satanist. The hyperbolic drunkards would jokingly
exaggerate his prowess by blasphemously describing him as the madman who out-evangelised
John the Baptist himself and even out-prayed Jesus proper! That was the portrait of Apostle
Abdul.
I had the sad privilege to accompany him on a trip from Harare to Ruwa by the so-called
Freedom Trains on our way from the University of Zimbabwe where we were studying then.
Little did I suspect that this fiery open-air preacher would pre-decease me in the most tragic
circumstances that would leave the Revival Church of Zimbabwe zealots horrified, petrified,
terrified, flabbergasted, nay, totally bamboozled.

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